Scripture Intro - Matthew 25:31-46
In this last
week of the lectionary cycle, as we lead up to season of Advent – we encounter
Jesus here in the gospel of Matthew speaking just before his death, giving his
disciples some farewell instructions and some advice on what to do as they
await his return.
Whether we’re
awaiting the first coming of Christ – as we do in Advent –
or the second
coming, as many do in the church in our own time - the advice that Jesus has to
offer applies to us all: Be wise, be watchful, be ready.
And while
you’re waiting don't just sit around imagining how great the world will be with
Christ in it: use the gifts God has given you to bring about a bit of the
Kingdom of God here and now. Give yourself away. Abundantly.
Give yourself
away as if you were giving to Jesus himself.
But fair
warning, the text from Matthew’s gospel we’re about to hear is not just a
gentle reminder to do unto others as we would have done to ourselves.
There’s some
“stuff” in here that is difficult for many of us to hear – especially when it’s
presented as coming out the mouth of Jesus.
It’s here that
Jesus talks about the day when he will return as the divine shepherd and judge
- to separate the sheep from the goats.
And if we’re
judged to be one of the goats, we have eternal fire and punishment to look
forward to.
This kind of
apocalyptic imagery was a literary device that the writer of Matthew’s gospel
in particular was very fond of using – but as Biblical scholars tell us,
apocalyptic writing was a less a prediction of things to come and more of a
statement about the times as they were.
In uncertain
times, when the evil deeds of others seem to go unpunished, being certain about
their destiny – and ones own destiny - before God, offers a sense of security
that can be very comforting.
As we listen
to this passage, if this apocalyptic imagery fails to resonate with you, try to
keep your focus on the good news that Jesus has for us here:
The revelation
that God is creating a world where the hungry will be fed, the stranger will be
welcomed, and the sick and imprisoned will be cared for.
And by seeing
Christ in everyone we meet, we can help make this world a reality.
The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott
The Congregational Church of
Amherst, NH
November 26, 2017 – Christ
the King Sunday
Ezekiel 34:11-24; Matthew
25:31-46
“Saving the
Sheeple”
There
are two kinds of Christians in the world.
There
are those who read this text from Matthew and their attention is drawn to the
verses about Jesus returning on Judgment Day to separate the sheep from the
goats, sending the righteous into the Kingdom of Heaven and the accursed into
the eternal fires of Hell.
And
there are those who read this text from Matthew and their attention is drawn to
the verses where the shepherd Jesus calls us, his disciple sheep, to feed the
hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, and visit the sick and imprisoned,
for in doing so it’s as if we’re caring for Jesus himself.
For
the first group of Christians – this is a text about judgment,
and
right behavior, and saving oneself from eternal damnation in hell.
For
the second group of Christians – this is a text about compassion, and mercy,
and saving others from a life of hell here on earth.
But
before we pat ourselves on the back because we count ourselves among the latter
group who hears a call for compassion in Jesus’ words rather than judgment, let’s consider the other message that Jesus has for us in this parable about
sheep and goats -
the message we hear behind the similar responses
that the people have to Jesus’ words about serving others:
“Lord,
when was it that we DID or DID NOT feed you, or clothe you, or welcome you, or
visit you when you were sick or in prison?”
Neither
the sheep nor the goats seem to know which group they belong to – because they
don’t recognize what they have done or have not done to serve Jesus through
service to others.
So,
perhaps there’s only one kind of Christian in the world.
The
kind who thinks he’s a sheep - or a goat – and is mistaken either way.
Because
we’re human – and we can’t help but see patterns everywhere -
we
have this overwhelming urge to separate people into categories.
The
good and the bad.
The
deserving and the undeserving.
The
innocent and the guilty.
The
winners and the losers.
But
even if we accept that no human being is perfect -
that
we all are capable of being hurtful, and unmerciful, and selfish at times,
we
still insist on having distinctive categories on this continuum - with the
mostly good on one side and the mostly bad on the other side.
The
problem is, when we try to place ourselves on this continuum of winners and
losers, we may be way off the mark, as Jesus suggests.
Not
necessarily because we’re deluded or think too highly of ourselves,
but
because we often lack the perspective to see the whole picture.
Douglas
Adams – the British novelist who wrote The
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - tells the story of something that
happened to him when he went to catch a train to London many years ago.
He
had some time to kill so he went to the station cafeteria and purchased a
newspaper, a cup of coffee, and a package of biscuits - or cookies as we call them here in the states.
He
sat down at a table that was already occupied by an average looking businessman,
who gave Adams a friendly nod as strangers often do, and went back to reading his newspaper.
Then,
as Adams sipped his coffee with the package of cookies in front of him, the man
did something that shocked him.
He
reached across the table, picked up the package of cookies, tore it open, and
ate one of the cookies.
Adams
admitted that the unexpected social faux pas is one thing that the English
don’t cope with easily.
What
do you do when someone has obviously taken something of yours right in front of
you?
Adams
said he did what any proper Englishman would have done –
he
pretended like it didn’t happen.
He
waited a few minutes, sipped his coffee, and then reached over and pulled one of
the cookies out of the package for himself and ate it.
The
man, who also seemed to be following proper English etiquette by not making eye
contact with Adams, responded by reaching into the package again, taking a
second cookie and eating it.
Adams
said at this point, he felt even more awkward speaking up about this obvious theft,
since he’d let it go the first time, so instead he casually took another cookie
for himself and ate it, while inside he was seething at the obviously boorish
and entitled behavior of the stranger seated across from him.
This
alternating cookie consumption went on for several more painful minutes – with
Adams getting more and more internally agitated - until there was only one cookie
left in the package.
Then
with the announcement of a departing train, the stranger got up, gathered up
his things, and reached into the package and took the last cookie – and just as
Adams was about to explode with righteous anger– the man handed the cookie to
Adams and left.
Adams
said he just sat there, stewing over the fact that this stranger likely thought
he was the generous one for offering Adams the last cookie.
Then
the announcement came that the train to London had arrived at the platform.
Adams
reached over and picked up his coffee and his newspaper –
and
there underneath the paper was the unopened package of cookies that he had
purchased.
We often don’t recognize
when we are the sheep or when we’re the goat.
There
are times when we feel like we’ve been wronged and we carry anger towards
someone in our hearts, that’s based on an assumption,
a
misperception, or erroneous information.
There
are times when we think we’re doing something good for someone that in the long run turns out
to be hurtful.
There
are times when the needs of others go unmet because we’re simply not aware of
them.
There are also times when we
could be accused of being a goat –
of
not seeing Jesus in the eyes of others - but we feel the need to lift up a well
reasoned argument in our defense.
When
we consciously walk past someone asking for money on the street because we
don’t know if they’re trying to scam us.
When
we make time to visit the sick but we’ve never visited anyone in prison,
because someone with a criminal record is way down on our list of those
deserving of our time and compassion.
When
we resist welcoming the stranger because their religious beliefs, or political
views, or immigration status makes them unwelcome in our eyes.
When
we don’t think twice about adding another stylish coat to our wardrobe while
someone with no coat is shivering outside in the cold not far from where we
live.
Even
when we do our best to be good and faithful sheep – and see the face of Jesus
all around us - it’s impossible for us to care for every person in need.
We
only have so many coins to put into outstretched hands,
so
many hours in a day to devote to work and family and community needs, and so
many coats to give to charity when we’re already giving in so many other ways.
How
much is enough?
How
much is too little?
At
what point do we move from being a goat to being a sheep?
And
in today’s world, where so many are led astray by con artists, fake news, and
false shepherds, why would we even want to be a sheep?
While
we may grasp the meaning and imagery of this ancient metaphor about Jesus being
our shepherd who guides us and cares for us -
the
metaphor often breaks down when we consider the disparaging image of sheep that
many of us have today.
Sheep
are thought to be stupid, and easily led down the wrong path, as they fall in
line behind a leader without questioning where they are going.
Many
people have left organized religion behind because they equate it with sheep
mindlessly following outdated traditions and harmful beliefs while ignoring
empirical facts and modern understandings of the world.
And
people on both sides of the political aisle have taken to calling those on the
other side “sheeple” instead of people – as in “the sheeple will believe
anything their leaders say because they’re gullible, and easily deceived, and aren’t
smart enough to think for themselves.”
Sadly,
the poor sheep get a bad rap in this regard.
Sheep
are not that dumb.
Studies
have shown that sheep have an IQ level just below pigs, which are often thought
to be intelligent animals.
There
was a flock of sheep in Yorkshire, England that figured out a way to get over
the cattle grids in the road by lying down and rolling over them on their
backs. That’s pretty smart if you
ask me.
Sheep
also have the ability to recognize the faces of up to 50 individuals - sheep
and humans – and they remember those faces for up to two years after having
last seen them.
Sheep
build strong relationships with one another – and have demonstrated the ability
to find their way out of a maze much faster when they’re shown pictures of
their sheep friends waiting at the exit.
Sheep
will often be wary and hesitant to approach a new sheep added to the flock that
they don’t recognize, but will gather around and welcome a sheep that has been
missing from the flock for quite some time.
Perhaps
we have more in common with sheep than we care to admit.
So
why do we have this need to place ourselves in one box or the other –
as
a sheep or as a goat – rather than recognize that we have the capacity to be
both – at different times in our lives and even from one moment to the next?
As
noted in our introduction to the gospel reading, we can blame Matthew for this
image of the sheep and goats being separated on judgment day.
We
struggle with these apocalyptic texts because we don’t understand that they
were often used as a subversive code for speaking about the present day world
the people lived in - socially and politically.
Whether
we’re talking about the second coming of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew or the
strange symbolic visions of the Book of Revelation – Apocalyptic writing is an
ancient literary genre that baffles us because it fell out of use over time.
Imagine
2000 years from now, if Science Fiction no longer exists as a genre, and people
unearth a copy of the screen play for Star Wars - and than read it as if it
were an accurate prediction of the future.
While
they immerse themselves in Jedi training and wait for Darth Vader to attack,
they might miss the message that George Lucas embedded in his story – the
message that people led by the forces of good have the power to overcome the
forces of evil.
Because
light always reveals the truth that the darkness hides.
When
we look beyond the framework that Matthew gives us in his story,
we
find a God who longs to know us and be known by us.
A
God who desires to be seen in the eyes of the hungry, and the naked, and the
stranger, and the sick and imprisoned.
A
God who on the so-called Judgment Day is seemingly uninterested in how many
commandments we’ve broken or what we believe about the nature of Christ
himself.
And
instead separates us into those who did something in the face of need, and
those who did nothing.
Perhaps
not to punish us, but to ask us,
“Where
were you when I needed you?”
The
belief that we belong to either one group or the other – the saved or the
damned – is deeply entrenched in our Christian DNA.
But
as sheep called to follow where our shepherd leads, perhaps it’s time to pick
up our heads and take note of the path that Jesus laid out before us.
The
one lined with opportunities to practice compassion, mercy, and grace.
The
one lined with our fellow travelers on this journey,
who
look into our eyes expecting to see the face of Christ,
just
as we expect to see Christ in them.
Thanks be to God, and Amen.
The sheep we encountered on our summer trip to Scotland.
